The Morning After
by Siren in the Dark
Summary: The Morning after the night before. When Hermione awakens with the hangover from hell after drinking Luna's fairy elixir just how will she cope as the memories of the night before slowly come back to her with some startling revelations. Warning Smut and Lemons. Canon Compliant until the epilogue. I own nothing and reviews are like candy.
1. Chapter 1

Hermione's head was killing her. The painful throbbing in her temples was strong enough to draw a whimper from her, as she lay in bed trying to avoid the tiny ray of sunlight filtering through her closed eyes. She tossed her head against her pillow to make her curls fall forward and hide her eyes from the light. Her body ached, every part of her felt as though her muscles had been abused. It was all she could do to lie still and hope that by keeping her eyes closed the pain would fade. She knew it was completely ridiculous but at that moment Hermione was willing to abandon all fact and reason.

It was the middle of August and she had been staying with Ginny at the Burrow since returning from completing her seventh year at Hogwarts. Ginny and Harry were almost sickeningly in love and had visited each other frequently throughout the allowed Hogsmeade visits during term time. Harry and Ronald had decided against returning to school and had taken Kingsley's offer of Auror training instead. Harry seemed to have a knack for it and had quickly found his feet within the program, and Hermione knew being able to make a difference following the war had brought Harry a great measure of peace. Ginny had wanted to go back to school, even though she planned on being a quidditch player she wanted a decent education to fall back on just in case. So she and Ginny had shared a dorm with those that chosen to go back.

Ron and Hermione had tried to make a relationship between them work, but the distance between them had made things difficult. Ron's refusal to see why continuing her schooling was important to her had ended their relationship rather bitterly. The two were barely civil to one another, and whilst Ron had been dating various witches since their break-up, Hermione had chosen to focus on getting her NEWT's. Hermione had seriously considered going to work for the ministry, but in the end had decided she would rather not be drawn into the politics. Instead she had chosen to take a new career path as a healer. After suffering at the hands of Bellatrix at Malfoy manor and nursing Harry and Ron whilst on the run Hermione had found that she rather enjoyed the challenge the career path would offer her. Hermione wanted to make the world a better place and could think of no greater way to achieve this.

Wizarding laws and policies were always slow to change and would have been a constant uphill battle to achieve even the tiniest of concessions. Whilst healing was based on facts, she would be able to research better ways to heal ailments and possibly find cures for diseases that even the wizarding world could not fix. Hermione had applied for many apprenticeships and was waiting for a response as well as her NEWT results. The thought had Hermione wincing, although she was sure that she had passed her exams she was worried that she may not have done well enough to get the apprenticeship she was coveting. Just the thought once again sent a her stomach into revolt. She did not want to get her hopes up only to see them dashed.

Hermione turned her head slightly to escape the sunlight that seem to be growing brighter and found that her pillow was rather hard. For a moment Hermione thought she may have fallen asleep on the ground, but she could feel the mattress against her toes. No Hermione was almost startled to realise that had fallen asleep entangled with something, or rather someone. Now that she had woken and her mind was clearing she realised that she was in fact sleeping with someone, a rather naked and male someone. Her head was using their chest as a pillow and she realised what she believed was a stray curl was really a smattering of hair upon his chest that was tickling her cheek as she breathed. Her face flushed crimson as she desperately fought to find the memories of the night before, anything that would give her a clue as to who was sleeping peacefully beneath her.

Her head was now throbbing even faster as she fought down a panic. She needed to remain calm and figure out exactly what had happened the night before. What was the last thing she remembered? Yesterday had been Ginny's eighteenth birthday and the two of them had started the morning at a spa getting pampered following an afternoon of shopping with Luna in tow. The girls had shared an afternoon lunch and Luna had dared them all to drink a fairy brew called "wanton desires". The drink was said to lead you to fulfill your most hidden fantasies with whom you most desired. Hermione thinking that it was another one of Luna's imagined creature ideas had drank it in one after checking that it wasn't toxic. Luna and Ginny had gaped at her before quickly following suit.

When nothing had appeared to change for them, the girls laughed it off and headed back to the burrow for the dinner that Molly had arranged for the family. Hermione had avoided Ron like the plague the entire evening, something she knew had greatly amused a rather pregnant Fleur. Fleur had decided after seeing this, that as she could not join in with Bill and Charlie's drinking games, Hermione would have to take her place. Hermione was really regretting agreeing to that, and she suspected Fleur had been serving Hermione double shots all night too. Bill had been amused as he explained the drinking game was simple. Everytime Molly would chastise one of her children, they took a shot. Every time Arthur would utter that all his children were grown and leaving him they would take another shot.

If an order member joked that Ginny and Harry would be engaged before the year was out they would have to down whatever they were drinking. It had started off looking like they would not get very far in the game until Molly had brought out the baby books. Then Hermione had been trying to help Ginny get the books away from Molly so that she would be able to stop drinking. She would have to commend Bill and Charlie, the two of them had been drinking firewhiskey and hadn't seemed nearly as drunk as she had. It was then that Hermione really really hoped that she hadn't fallen into bed with the married Bill Weasley. Not only would she be filled with unimaginable guilt she knew Fleur and Molly would never forgive her.

Things became blurry as she tried to remember how the night had moved on, she remembered having been cornered by a drunken Ron who had tried to kiss her only to be rejected. Hermione refused to be his consolation prize when she knew he had a girlfriend. Whilst Ron had not told her, Harry had. She was apparently a very lovely girl who worked in the hall of records that had taken a shine to Ron Weasley, war hero. No when Ron had drunkenly tried to lure her upstairs away from the party Hermione had called him an utter arse and flounced away to sit with Luna and George. Hermione remembered Luna giggling as she whispered that she thought the fairy brew was taking effect. They laughed as Ginny attempted to get Harry to sneak away with her into the gardens only to be blocked by a rather stern looking Molly.

Hermione remembered going outside for a walk, in the hopes that the fresh air would clear her head as she wandered the grounds. Tents had been set up outside as the burrow could not hold everyone inside and many guests had elected to spend the night rather than leave the celebration early. Hermione suspected that she was currently very naked in one of those tents, as she could smell the grass that has been freshly cut the day before. She could hear people moving around outside now, and briefly wondered just how she would escape this predicament unobserved. She desperately wanted to talk to Luna or Ginny, she needed a woman's advice and she knew Harry would rather detest having to discuss sex with her.

It was no secret that Hermione was a virgin, or that she had been until last night and she was desperate to at least know the name of the man she had given her virginity to. She had a fleeting memory of being asked "Are you sure?" which she responded with "Yes, but I am glad at least one of us know's what they are doing". But Hermione could not for the life of her put a name to the sound of that deep husky voice that had been laced with something as he'd paused to ask her that. Hermione wanted to open her eyes, but was terrified that he would already be awake and watching her, and she did not want to deal with that just now. No, for the first time, all her courage failed her and she was so ready to slip beneath the covers and bury her head and hope that he would leave.

Hermione tried to list all the males that had been at Ginny's birthday, her brothers and cousins of course, as well as the order. But there were also friends from school that had been invited and Hermione found herself thanking Merlin himself that although Harry and Draco had become friendly to one another he had not been invited to this party. The idea of her having been bedded by Malfoy of all people made her stomach heave. Nasty little ferret that he was. She also knew that whoever's arm was tightening around her could not be Ron's. No, when he slept he snored so loudly Hermione was always amazed he didn't wake himself with the noise. The relief from that knowledge was almost as great as knowing that it wasn't Malfoy.

She then considered who else it could be, and wondered had George stayed with her on her walk around the pond or had he followed Luna as she headed back into the party. She found that she didn't mind the idea of George, although she knew the voices didn't match. George had matured a lot since losing Fred, although he was still a terrible flirt and prankster, he and Hermione had formed a kind of bond. Hermione would even go as far to say that they enjoyed a rather strange friendship and she enjoyed his teasing of her being the Gryffindor swotty princess. It actually made Hermione's heart ache, because his teasing of her had been the first signs that he was coming back after losing Fred.

No it wasn't George, Hermione was certain of that. George she remembered now had chased after Luna after she suggested that he had lost his pranking touch demanding that she take it back. Hermione recalled having fallen against a cherry tree laughing as Luna had skipped back to the party after telling him he had become more stuffy that Percy. Hermione stiffened and thought "Oh god no, please don't let this be Percy". Urgh. He was a pompous arse, who always tried to make Hermione feel as though she was intellectually inferior to him. She also knew that she would likely end up in Azkaban for his murder, had she not loved Ginny too much to take another of her brothers away. There wasn't enough drink in the world to get her into bed with that man, and Hermione had often wondered if Percy actually liked girls at all. The thought had Hermione biting back a laugh at him ever attempting to flirt with a girl, he would probably produce a contract that would negate the need for any romance.

The amusement brought back a flash of memory of lips against her ear, a strong warm body behind her as she pressed back against him, his eager hands working magic across her skin. "So fucking beautiful when you laugh" he had uttered, his voice laced with lust and the memory alone had Hermione's libido doing an eager little dance. She knew whoever he was he was sin personified. He had sworn to make her cry out his name and call him master. That he would own her soul that night and Hermione's toes curled as she remembered the way his hips rolled as he thrusted within her. Her nails clawing into his back to pull him back to her, every time his thrusts had him withdrawing. She could feel herself flushing with heat and need at the memory of a head of curls between her legs as he ate her out. This tongue had pressed and flicked against her tender little clit, tormenting her with teasing little licks before sucking hard upon it making her scream in need.

She remembered now being kissed against the entrance of a tent before falling inside entangled together, laughing at their mutual drunkenness but uncaring as to where they fell just as long as the kissing never stopped. He had lost his shirt somewhere along the way and Hermione had taken great joy in tracing the muscles there with her tongue, following each dip and curve as he had groaned beneath her. He had been merciless in his retaliation, making her cry out in need of him as his eager hands had divested of her clothing, but telling her the stockings stayed. She had been shy under his gaze, those crystal blue eyes had burned with intense heat as he had marvelled at her naked flesh. She thought she would go up in flames if he didn't keep touching her, and even when he did it was never enough.

It was then she had found herself begging him to take her, to give her everything she wanted but had no idea how to ask for. He had been slow and gentle at first, easing into her, and distracting her with slow drugging kisses when the pain ripped through her. He had kissed away every fear and doubt until she had relaxed beneath him and then he had set into that rolling rhythm that had her breath catching and her pussy dancing around his cock in pleasure. She blushed scarlet as she recalled him telling her that she "had a beautiful little cunt" and recalled hitting him around the head before he had proceeded to tongue fuck her. She had rarely heard anyone be so crass but Hermione was starting to remember exactly who she was laying in bed with. She could also feel his cock stirring against her stomach and had to bit her lip at the thought of sliding herself back onto it.

Whilst the pain in her temples was a hangover, the pain in her body was a delicious ache, that when coupled with the memories of the night before had her all too eager for a repeat. She could hear people talking through the sides of the tent in hushed voices as it seemed no one was eager to wake and face the early morning sun. Hermione also knew that she was supposed to have gone to bed up at the house in Ginny's room and Molly would no doubt be seeking her out when she found Hermione's bed had not been slept in. She may be of age, but she knew Molly would have no tolerance for premarital relations under her roof. Hermione wondered briefly, if being that she was in a tent, would what happened last night would technically not be a breach of her rules? Hermione knew that really she had no hope in Molly seeing that distinction the way she did and that if Molly chose to walk in now, she would flay Hermione's hide.

Her bed partner was stirring now, and Hermione could feel his fingers trailing along her back and hips, slow up and down movements that were sending shivers across her skin. His breathing had sped up a little and Hermione swore she could feel a ghosting of lips against her aching temple. He was smiling against her skin, she could feel it and Hermione had to refrain from opening her eyes to meet those blue orbs. Instead she nuzzled into his chest, holding him tighter as though he were her pillow and tried to hide from the talk she knew would have to come and the sunlight that was now glaring against her closed eyes. She could hear him laughing as she tried to hide in her chest and she dearly wanted to smack him for it. His hands brushed her curls back, making the light even brighter and she groaned. "Charlie, you are an arsehole". Her eyes snapped open to meet his as his entire body shook from silent laughter. At her glare he erupted into loud uncontrolled laughter.


	2. Chapter 2

_**AN - I own nothing... unfortunately.**_

 _For those that enquired, no this is not a one shot. Several chapters have already been written and I am in the process of editing them. If you have any questions or requests please feel free to message me. I do try and respond asap. All that said... enjoy._

Charlie wrapped his hands around Hermione's to stop her slapping him and pulled her up to him to silence her abuse with his lips. She tasted like firewhiskey still and Charlie found it very hard to remember to go slow with her. She had been shaking like a leaf last night, but when he tried to stop, to get her to wait until she was sober she had kissed him and begged him to take her. Charlie was no saint, he wanted to be a good man, but even the most saintly of men would have been unable to deny the witch anything she wanted when she begged him so prettily. He rolled her beneath him, and took his time kissing her, savouring the feel of her lips, the breathy little moans that escaped her that were like sweet music to his ears.

She was as fiery as any dragon he had ever tamed, she bristled very easily and yet with the right touch she was purring beneath him. Charlie had been surprised last night when Fleur had encouraged her to drink with him and Bill. Fleur had quietly explained to Charlie as Bill was explaining the rules of the game to Hermione that she thought Hermione needed a break from Ron's attitude. Ron had been behaving oddly according to Bill and Fleur following Hermione's completion of Hogwarts. He had apparently been under the impression that Hermione would come running back to him. When she hadn't, he had gone back to dating random witches, much to their Mother's dismay. Bill and Charlie were well aware that Molly was very hopeful that they would end up together as Harry and Ginny had. Bill was of the opinion that there couldn't be a worse pairing for Hermione than their little brother, and Charlie agreed, especially now that she was naked in his arms.

Charlie had rarely paid much attention to Hermione over the years, she had been his little brothers friend and had giggled with Ginny whenever he and Bill were around. On the few times he had met her prior to the war he had considered her nothing more than a child. Being that he was always in Romania he had honestly spent very little time around her, so he had been shocked when he had seen the woman she had become. She was still very young, true, he was nearly eight years her senior, but she had a lot of wisdom on such young shoulders. Bill admired her mind, she was the only one besides Percy who could debate the proper translations of runic theories with him. Although why they would want to was completely beyond Charlie. Runes were a powerful form of magic to be sure, but beyond its application Charlie couldn't see why you waste so much thought on it. No Charlie was a man of action, the idea of being stuck inside behind a desk of all things was his very own version of hell.

As a young lad his mother was frequently having to search out his sleeping places from around the grounds, lost was to why Charlie had no desire to sleep inside the house. Charlie couldn't explain it, but sleeping behind stone walls had never made him feel safe, it made his skin crawl and he could not understand why anyone would want to. People weren't meant to be cooped away like chickens in a hen house, hiding from the fox in the night. McGonagall had grown tired of dragging back to Gryffindor tower every night and had decided to turn a blind eye so long as he slept on the tops of the towers rather than out in the grounds. When he had left Hogwarts for the reservations he had taken to living rough like a duck to water. He was always the first to volunteer to sleep in the tents, and when he had been promoted he hadn't taken one of the highly sought after residences in the keeps. He had a cabin to himself near enough to the enclosures should he be needed in the night.

His mother who had been subtle the last few years about wanting him back home, was now getting in his face about it. She wanted him home, and she wanted him settled and having children. Her exact words after she had cornered him the morning before still rang in his ears. "I've lost one son, Charles Weasley, and I will be damned if I lose you to some dragon on foreign soil. I am getting too old to be worrying about you every night." Charlie knew she worried, she worried more about him that she did Bill who broke into heavily cursed areas for a career, or Ron who had taken the career path to hunt down violent criminals. She wanted him to have a nice safe job like his father and Percy had, a quill pushing vocation that would have him fat and balding and willing to jump into a pool of rotting inferi to escape its tedium. Charlie, as much as he loved his mother, could not give her what she wanted.

He had dreamed of working with dragons from a young age, he spent his entire childhood begging his father for a welsh green to keep in the garden, or for a horntail to keep his brothers out of his room. It was Hagrid who had helped him get his interview for working at the Romanian dragon reserve. He'd met one of the keepers during a game of poker and had mentioned Charlie and his ambitions. Charlie had been hired even before he finished Hogwarts much to his Mother's dismay. When she had forbidden he leave, he had snuck out in the early hours of the morning on his broomstick and spent the better part of a week avoiding her sobbing howlers. His father, who hadn't been impressed at him leaving in the dead of night had understood and supported his decision. His father had always been there to quietly listen to Charlie's hopes, and when his disastrous relationship with Tonks had gone to hell he had been there help his son move on.

When Fred and George had quit Hogwarts before their NEWTs had been taken, his mother had sent him a howler blaming him for his poor example. If he hadn't have run off to Romania they would have never dared to finish school early. Charlie hadn't deigned that letter with a response, instead he had sent a letter to Fred and George telling them to go into hiding until their father could calm their mother down. If anything Charlie was proud of the so called influence he had on the twins. They had shrewd minds for business and they knew their market well. They had flourished and Charlie could not have been prouder of them, although Charlie would admit he thought the two took more after Bill than they did him. Charlie had no ambitions for fame or fortune, he simply wanted to live his life in a way that made him happy and care for some magnificent creatures who's place in the world was slowly being taken away.

Charlie had not told anyone that there was another reason that he had agreed to come back home, besides his baby sister's birthday. The ministry in Scotland had contacted him and several other British keepers about a reserve they wanted to create in the highlands. Several thousand acres had become available following the seizure of properties belonging to deceased death-eaters. Rather than the lands being sold, the remotest ones were being reviewed for possible magical sites. The largest of these, formerly on Clan McKenzie lands, had ley lines and they wanted to bring home native dragon species home to them. It seemed that the Ministry had grown tired of being considered rather poorly of by the rest of wizarding world when it came to conservation. Charlie would be heading to Scotland in a few days to speak with some of the directors of the project to see if he would be willing to join the project.

Charlie had turned them down several similar offers from the ministry before, even when they had offered him far greater pay and accommodations for the career change to Britain. This was because they had also wanted to harvest live skins from the dragons there to flood the british markets with a more affordable and renewable product. Charlie hardly thought it renewable when the scales that grew back were greatly weakened and the dragons often died from shock with such treatment. It wasn't until Kingsley had contacted him with the revised proposal that would protect the creatures from such actions rather than actively engaging in them that Charlie finally started to take the offer seriously. So he and one of his fellow keepers, a scot by the name of Duncan McTavish, would be heading up there in a few days. Duncan had three small kids and wanted to be closer to home. He refused to move his kids onto the reserve in case they were attacked by an escaped dragon. Charlie had met his eldest daughter Cora, who at aged five was a little devil and always up to mischief, she reminded him of his sister Ginny at that age.

Charlie shook himself from his thoughts, the reason he was considering this was namely because of one person, Fred. Charlie hadn't been able to keep him safe, had missed most of his brothers teen years, and with George only now feeling emotionally stable enough to function without firewhiskey Charlie knew his family really needed him to come home. Charlie did not consider the dragon reserve home, the only home he had ever truly known was the burrow. Home was where his family were and Charlie was getting to an age when the idea of starting his own was becoming something he wouldn't flat out say no to. Whilst he wasn't Bill, who had stunned him by telling Charlie only days after meeting Fleur that he was going to marry that girl, he could see the appeal of having someone to call his own.

He respected his mother and father's life choices, with the large family and the very settled routine they had been raised in, Charlie knew he didn't expect that from a life partner. He wanted someone to come home to sure, and maybe a couple of kids down the line, but he didn't expect to have a woman who waited at home all day for him. He was of the opinion that if he wasn't willing to do it, then he shouldn't expect them to be. Its also a line of thinking that has had him worried for his younger siblings, mainly his brothers Percy and Ron. Percy was as personable as spoon who didn't seem to realise the effects his attitudes had on those around him. Charlie was of the opinion that Percy needed to remove his head from his superior's arses and get a fresh whiff of reality or he'd spend the rest of his life alone.

Ron however needed a woman that would be his mother. He needed someone that would take care of him and his home and Charlie knew it had more to do with feelings of being overlooked as a child rather than a poor view of women. Ron had always felt somehow less than the rest of them, and although Charlie had included him when he was home, it seemed his brothers had not done so in his absence. Ron needed someone who wanted him, who would choose him over others and Charlie knew that until Ron matured a little more he would always go looking for that in the wrong places.

Charlie sighed as he was drawn out of his rather dreary turn of thoughts by soft fingers stroking the stubble on his cheek and pretty brown eyes smiling up at him. Charlie smiled at her but didn't respond to her silent question. He knew she was curious as to where his mind had just taken him but right now he had more pressing matters to attend to. The most pressing being the woman he was currently pressing into the mattress whose fingers were tracing the scars on his back. She had drunkenly done the same thing the night before, insisting that he sit still so she could trace them first with her fingers and then with her lips. It had been pure torture to let her take her sweet time as she traced his skin, and when she was done he had been harder than dragon scales and begging for relief.

Charlie had found her laughing to herself the night before as George had chased a giggling Luna Lovegood around the pond, and she had babbled something peculiar about fairy drinks. Charlie had pulled her up to take her to get some coffee to sober her up when she had fallen into his chest. His hands had steadied her, and he found himself lost in her doe eyed gaze. She had blinked up at him before thrusting her hand into his hair and pulling him down to kiss her. She had tasted like firewhiskey, and the heat of her skin in the cool night air had made Charlie more than eager to burn within her hold. She had this breathy little moan that would escape whenever his teeth had grazed her bottom lip, and as Charlie stared at her now he could see it was bruised from his kisses. He could feel a rather smug grin slide over his features as he brushed it with his thumb and she whimpered.

Her hair was a wild tangle of curls, far thicker than his own, and up close he could see so many colours hidden within her wild mane of hair. Mussed as it was from the night before, he knew everyone would know she had been thoroughly fucked with just a glance. He felt rather pleased that he had been the one to make her look so, and found himself feeling very possessive of the young witch. Charlie didn't do relationships. He hadn't since breaking up with Tonks just before they left Hogwarts all those years ago. And yet he couldn't seem to bring himself to consider letting Hermione go. She wasn't like the girls he usually bedded, they were experienced and knew it was only going to be that one night. Hermione had been a virgin, and even when his cock had threatened rebellion when Charlie tried to dissuade a drunken Hermione from sleeping with him, he had tried to do right by her.

Even drunk, Charlie remembered his father telling him during "the talk" that everything that happened in the bedroom always had to be her decision, and he had taken it to heart. Charlie found as he kissed each of her finger tips in the morning light that he would regret it if he let her slip through his fingers. Women like her were rare, and she had had him wrapped around her little finger the moment she had begged him for more. When she had grown to tired to keep having sex, Charlie had pulled her up over his shoulders and as she squeaked in protest he had shown her he was just as talented with his tongue to bring her pleasure. Hell she had even tasted sweet there, like cinnamon and honey as he had drawn every drop of her essence he could get from her trembling cunt. She had also gone scarlet and admonished him for cursing in front of her even as she whimpered in pleasure for more. She had passed out during her final orgasm and Charlie had carried her to the bed, the one place in this tent they hadn't had sex.

Charlie had set wards around the tent before falling asleep with her, not wanting to be woken in the morning by his family or their friends. He briefly wondered if anyone had spotted his shirt by the pond yet, he knew his mother would assume he was in a tent somewhere sleeping off the whiskey, Yet Luna and George had seen him pinning Hermione against the tree and devouring those plump little lips. He wondered if they had drank enough not to remember that little detail or if George would be waiting to talk to him about it this morning. At the moment Charlie didn't rightly care, what mattered more to him was what Hermione was thinking. She was being quiet, something he knew from his floo calls with Bill was not a common occurrence. As he watched her he could see the nervous gestures she made and wondered if she regretted the night before. He hoped not, as he found himself wanting what they had started to continue.

Deciding his libido could wait, Charlie pulled the sheets up and covered her nakedness with them, he couldn't talk to her when she was bare to him. He knew he would be thinking of suckling on those pert little tits more than the words she was speaking if he didn't remove the visible temptation at least. He was thinking on how best to break the silence between them when she cleared her throat and he could see her square off her shoulders. Charlie had to bite back the grin from his lips, knowing that she would not be anywhere near as amused as he was. He raised his eyebrow and and winked at her "Yes, Hermione?"

She huffed and pushed him back from her, but she didn't remove her hand from his. "Charlie what happened last night was, well I only have you to go by but I am going to say for me at least it was incredible and I hope you feel so too. But I am worried, I know Ginny says you don't really do relationships and you live in Romania and I am hoping to study here, well in the UK at least. I don't want to have my first time to have just been some drunken fling. Ginny is one of my best friends and I don't want to be awkward around your family either." Charlie watched as her eyes ducked away from his and she gnawed on her lower lip, wincing even as it caused her pain.

He pulled her into his arms and held her close, kissing her temple and pulling her lip from between her teeth with his thumb, caressing the bruised flesh. "I can't make you any promises Hermione" he started and when she looked as though she would cry he pushed her chin up so that her eyes met his. "I can't promise you how anyone else will behave around us, I know George has seen us and since he didn't summon the cavalry to come save you we can assume he is okay with it. I can't promise to give up my career for you either, I would never ask you to change your plans for me either. I don't want you to grow to resent me.

"What I can promise you, is that I don't want this to be a one night thing either. I don't need the approval of anyone in my family for who I involve myself with, I never have. We Weasley men are stubborn possessive beasts you see, we find ourselves pretty maidens and horde them for our own lustful desires." He kissed her neck and growled against it making her giggle and writhe in his hold on her. "We will choose our own paths Hermione, no one can choose it for us. So if you are willing to try and make this work between us then I am too, and if you aren't I am more than happy to sit your pretty cunt on my face again until you are". Hermione squealed as his hand slipped between her thighs and stroked her aching clit and dragged his head down to kiss her even as she slapped his chest in chastisement.


End file.
